Idle Hands Are The Devil's Playthings
Welcome to Silk Worm, I just pulled this outa my butt
I began knitting around age 12 when, as my mother’s elderly best friend Jackie revealed to me, I could make my own accessories with just a bit of concentration and hand-eye coordination. Jackie began hosting myself, and the roughly three other girls my age from church, in her sunroom to knit from a time-worn stash of yarn. All I remember from Jackie’s house was that it was old, filled with art, sunlit and had an overpowering scent of mothballs. She had two Siamese cats which provided her great company and, as she lived right across the street, mom and I would frequently walk over for an afternoon snack of heavily salted pretzel sticks dipped in her homemade mayonnaise, sitting on the screened-in porch, nestled by the kittens.
After all this time, I think I can confidently say I am the only knitter that Jackie churned out from that group of church-girl friends. I became obsessed with yarn, the variety of colors and textures in the Jo-Ann Fabric yarn aisle was to me like a vast array of salt water taffy at a beach town’s tacky tourist shop. In years to come, I would spend many hours on my couch knitting while my brothers and I watched The Office, my addiction to fiber arts fueled by my artist step-mom’s similar obsession with the stuff. Beth and I now share the very same proclivity for constantly adding or changing decorative aspects of our interior spaces. It felt like every time I came home, the stairs were painted a new color or the large paintings she had done of us kids had been rearranged along the walls. Our house, her living project.
During an especially boring fall break in 2013, I made what I believed to be the outfit-making accessory of the goddamn century: a brick red infinity scarf that I would wear fashionably over a thin black and white striped peplum top from Urban Outfitters, the entire look pulled together by Revlon’s Raspberry Bite. The scarf made waves. My friends couldn’t believe I had made, from my own hands and with very little monetary investment, the thing we were all clamoring for, the thing we could not get enough of, the accessory that ushered us from girlhood directly to sophisticated woman with latte, lipstick and a purpose -hood. My sweet mayonnaise-making, Siamese-cat-owning neighbor Jackie and the infinity scarf trend of the 2010s are what, in the end, made me a knitter.
I now live in Brooklyn with my best friends, constantly bombarded with inspiration and the insatiable desire to create, which I deem an immeasurable blessing. I have an absolute aversion to sitting still, thus, I knit because I have to. But my friends also play a huge role in what I make these days. They are my friends, after all, because they inspire me; they share with me the stories, colors, artworks, and people that spark in them some sort of delight or fascination. We live in, what feels to me, a bubble of creativity and so, I am never at a loss for what to make next.
This bubble also means that almost every single one of my dearest has a newsletter. My initial hesitancy at creating my own can be boiled down to my belief that nothing I have to say could be more valuable than what is already out there, and if you know me, you know I think the words of my friends are genius and invaluable. I’d been noodling on the thought for a bit, and ultimately decided that I have too many things I want to research and learn about to not create this thing. Too many spur of the moment design ideas I wish I could share with more makers. So, welcome to Silk Worm. The name means little other than I like the imagery. The silkworm’s sole purpose is to produce the fiber that is eventually wound into skeins and woven for fabrics. For over 4,000 years, the Chinese have harvested these threads from the larvae of the Silk Moth, which has, as a result, gone completely extinct from the wild because of our human intervention.1 The only point of the silkworm now is to create. We could talk on and on about the harm we’ve caused given that humans have effectively clipped the Silk Moth’s wings for good. But that’s not why I’m here.
I want to share, not just what I’m making or planning to make, but the inspiration behind the thing. Often, I pluck colors and shapes from historical sources, and I would love to delve deep into fashion history to uncover why, for example, we are so obsessed with sailor aesthetics (I’m telling on myself here). Why is it that I cannot stop collecting, and in turn making, tops with big collars? I’ll also share bts of my current projects, what is frustrating me, what trick I learned, why I chose a twisted rib as opposed to a regular rib, etc.
I’m excited! And I hope, so are you.
Raspberry Bite kisses,
Isabel
Silkworm. Saint Louis Zoo. (n.d.). https://stlzoo.org/animals/invertebrates/silkworm
❤️ I need to send you a photo of me as a kid in a very short dress (maybe it was supposed to be a top) with the biggest collar ever
Well done Isabel!